codename divas
by Azrael-013
Summary: AU, and a parody of a parody. Three female former convicts have been given a second chance as elite, undercover operatives. PG-13 for humor, language, violence, and possible rip-offs.
1. diva Formation

codename d.i.v.a.s. - Chapter 01: d.i.v.a. Formation **codename d.i.v.a.s.**

Genre: Humor/Action/Adventure  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: AU, and a parody of a parody. Three female former convicts have been given a second chance as elite, undercover operatives. PG-13 for humor, language, violence, and possible rip-offs.

Recently I've become addicted to the television show 'She Spies' starring Natasha Henstridge. I know, I know, it's not the most compelling TV out there, but it's still pretty entertaining. This idea just popped into my head one day and I decided to give it a shot. It may flop, just like the show's ratings, but hopefully a few of you will get a kick out of it.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing used in this fic, not World Wrestling Entertainment, not 'She Spies' or 'Charlie's Angels' or any other similar shows showcasing three women fighting crime in skin-tight outfits. Any lawsuit threats and complains over violated copyrights should be e-mailed to this address: wallofjericho-webtv-net. He'll handle it.

Date uploaded: 26 February 2005

**Chapter 01: d.i.v.a. Formation**

It was early morning and the sun was shining, birds were singing, and a gentle breeze blew. All in all it would have been the perfect day, if one didn't have to view it through massive chain-link enclosures. Lita rolled her eyes and resumed her aimless walk around the prison exercise yard.

Black Hills Women's Correctional Facility was not the cheeriest place on earth, to say the least. The cells were crowded, actual facilities shot and you could get your eye put out for looking at another inmate the wrong way. Not much different from any other women's prison, and Lita, having been here a total of five weeks, desperately wanted out.

"You, number 27435!"

Pausing to stare outside the barrier at a bird that was gleefully hopping from one rock to another, Lita barely heard the barking behind her. She frowned at the bird, vaguely imagining that it was mocking her, jumping up and down and letting out stupid little chirps and…

"Inmate number 27435! You, by the fence!"

… grinning that smug little, beak-like smirk at her. At that moment all Lita could think about was getting out just to that she could snap that blasted bird's neck in two…

"Yo, REDHEAD! You're being called!" one of the other inmates suddenly yelled.

That was what made Lita snap her head up and turn around. She faced one of the guards, impatiently motioning for her to follow. "27435, I've been calling you for the past five minutes! You're not hearing impaired, are you? Get over here!"

Lita scowled. She disliked being ordered around as much as the other inmates in the place. "You expect me to answer to '27435'? Here's a novel idea, if you want someone's attention, call them by their proper name."

The guard frowned dangerously at her. "Watch it. Any more of that lip of yours and you'll find yourself in lockdown."

Lita obediently refrained from any more comments and followed as the guard began to lead her back into the building. After making faces at the guard's back, Lita then began to wonder why she had been called. Oh crap, had they actually found out that she was the one who had dumped that vat of lentils into the water system? It was a prank! But did that really call for having to bring her in to see…

"Wait, what am I being called for anyway?" she finally asked.

The guard just gave her a cryptic look. "You'll see."

**>>>**

Molly idly played with a lock of her hair. She was getting impatient. "How much longer do we have to wait?"

The warden, a platinum-blonde woman pushing mid-forties, looked up at her from behind the desk. Sable merely smiled. "I don't see why you're complaining. You, of all people, have all the time to wait."

Molly scowled, fully aware that Sable was mocking her and her two-year sentence. She crossed her arms over her chest sullenly and resigned herself to staring out a window.

Moments later the door opened. Molly looked up to see another fellow prisoner being ushered in, a redhead with a similar disgruntled disposition. The two eyed each other for a brief moment before Lita sat down in the chair beside Molly. They then both pointedly ignored each other and instead looked at the warden. "What's this all about?" Lita asked.

"You two have a visitor," Sable said, finally getting to the matter.

"Who?" Molly asked.

Sable gestured to one corner, where a man in a business suit was standing and looking just as impatient as the two were. "For crying out loud, Molly, I've been standing here this entire time. Are you telling me you didn't notice me at all?"

"I thought you were just another of Warden Sable's boy toys," Molly said, wrinkling her nose, as if the thought was filthy. "Wait, who are you and why do you know my name?"

"Heck, it's a welcome difference from 'Number 23991'," Lita muttered, having spotted the number on Molly's clothes.

The man turned to Sable. "Would you mind giving me a few minutes with the girls? This is a private matter, I think you understand."

Sable gave a languid sigh and slowly got up. "Whatever you say, oh big shot FBI agent. Watch out for the girls, though, they're not exactly harmless. Oh, and keep your hands off my paperweights," with that confounding warning Sable exited the room.

Lita and Molly's mysterious visitor waited for a few moments before promptly fiddling with the various paperweights on Sable's desk. Lita cocked an eyebrow. "What exactly are you doing?"

"That maniacal woman keeps her hidden security cams in these," he explained, apparently deactivating each one. "Not exactly the most subtle when it comes to references either."

"Actually she only keeps three among the paperweights, one in that ugly still-life painting over there and another in that small, bronze trophy on the top shelf," Molly suddenly spoke up. He other two looked at her. She shrugged. "Let's just say this isn't the first time I've been in here."

The two girls then watched as the man/visitor/suspicious FBI agent went about disabling the remaining cameras. "Third runner up Ms. Kentuckyville, 19—hey, the last two numbers have been scratched out," he muttered as he looked at the trophy.

Lita cleared her throat. "Not to sound rude, but I have another bitch fight scheduled at the yard today. Mind telling us who you are and why you're here?"

"What? Oh, right, yes," he said, setting the trophy down and straightening his coat. "My name is special agent Steven Richards of the FBI. You two are Molly and Lita, correct?"

"Numbers 27435 and 23991', you mean," Lita grumbled.

Steven took a file from his briefcase and opened it. "Lita, con-woman extraordinaire, wanted in six different states for breaking hearts and breaking vaults. Finally caught two months ago in Virginia for indecent exposure," Steven Richards cocked an eyebrow at her.

Lita rolled her eyes. "Apparently my thong was showing."

"I thought they hadn't implemented that law yet," Steven said.

"Yeah, well, the rookie cop who stupidly arrested me thought they had. I would have gotten away if somebody hadn't been smart enough to piece two and two together. Hard not to; there was a huge, blown-up picture of me in the station window."

Steven shook his head and then turned to Molly. "Molly Holly, arrested six months ago at a rally protesting animal testing. You may have gotten off lightly, if not for the past two records stating that you burned down a similar clinic in another city and destroying the outfits at a fashion show by the means of a hose and a vat of bleach. Oh, and slugging a bystander at said protest couldn't have been helpful either."

"Oh thank you, I hadn't realized that," Molly said sarcastically.

"You know, you could have been the darling of activists across the nation if not for that violent streak of yours."

"Popularity, infamy, either way it attracts attention," Molly said with a shrug. "Besides, do I look like I want to make friends? Now are you going to tell us why you're here or will you just keep stalling for the rest of the hour?"

"All right," Steven said, putting the files away. "I'll cut to the chase. I have a offer for the two of you."

"And what's that?" Lita asked.

"How would you like to become part of an elite task force assigned to combat crime and evil-doers at an almost week-to-week basis?"

His question was met with identical sardonic looks. It was Lita who finally spoke. "What?"

"You see, I've just been given the go-ahead to undertake this special project of mine," Steven said, taking the seat beside the desk and explaining with a proud grin on his face. "The premise is that we take a few women from this correctional facility, say three, hone their already learned skills and teach them a few more, such as defusing bombs, hacking files and kicking ass using cool martial arts moves, then pit them against the forces that they themselves once were. It's actually a brilliant piece of work, I must say, in fact, if you two are interested, I have the entire proposal right here; I just have to fish it out from my briefcase…" he then proceeded to stack an alarmingly large pile of sheets on the desk. "… It's just a little mixed up but you can pretty much get the gist of it, assuming you read it in order from beginning to end, including footnotes…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Lita slapped a hand down onto Steven's, cutting him off. "Slow down there. You lost me after 'go-ahead to undertake' the what to the huh and the how?"

"I understood it all just fine, despite that horrendous run-on sentence," Molly said frostily. "Basically you want to put us into a little unit, train us to work under and do your little, dirty jobs for you. Am I correct?"

"I'm glad to see one of you is listening," Steven beamed.

"Answer me this then, Mr. Richards- why should we?" Molly challenged, her eyes feral. "You are part of the institute that put us away. We are stuck in this godforsaken place because of morons like you. Give me one good reason why we should even consider this ridiculous offer!"

"Because it'll get you out of this 'godforsaken place'," Steven answered.

Suffice to say that caught both women's attention. "Say that again?" Lita said.

"You heard me," Steven said, looking satisfied. "Freedom. Oh well, freedom with limits at least. Stay with the program and you move out of Black Hills to a cozy little house with a fireplace, full bedrooms and sanitary toilet facilities. The more good you do the cleaner your personal record will look. This is the fabled second chance being given to you on a silver platter." He waited for it all to sink in before speaking again. "So what'll it be, ladies?"

Again it was Lita who spoke first. "Fuck it, I'm sold. Where do I sign?"

As Steven once again began to pull out papers from his briefcase, Molly spoke up again. "Wait, you mentioned there would be three of us, right?"

"Did I?" Steven said, feigning confusion. "Well I may have stated it hypothetically, I guess."

"No, it was definitely a definite thing," Molly said, already having proved that she was sharper than a double-edged sword. "So who's the third woman? And, more importantly, why isn't she in this meeting?"

Steven frowned as Lita reached across the table and willingly penned her name on the document. "About that third woman…"

**>>>**

"What's the matter, Stevie? Too much of a wuss to come in here and talk to me face to face?"

Outside the metal holding cell Steven swallowed nervously and peered into the small square of glass that served as a window. The finger pressing the intercom wavered the slightest bit. After he his meeting with Molly and Lita he had stopped putting off this final visit and made his way here. Now his voice came out strained, no matter how he tried to be calm. "You know perfectly well that I'm now allowed to enter any of the women's cells, Victoria, especially not these…"

"Oh, these little cells are almost starting to feel like home already. I think they already have this one specially reserved for me."

She was talking about the particular holding cells where an inmate would be locked down if she acted up and caused a considerable amount of disturbance. "What did you do again to get thrown in here, Victoria?" Steven asked.

"Oh, this and that. I tried to strangle another girl using a towel in the laundry area yesterday. Not that they should have worried; it's depressing enough in here without another tragic death."

"Are you still seeing that therapist we talked about?"

There was a dry chuckle and the sound of someone getting up. Moments later Victoria's slightly psychotic features came into view. She smiled at him. "Same old Steven. Well, actually this is interesting. Enough about me, let me get this straight. You want me, the very same criminal you spent two years chasing, a criminal you apprehended personally and has no doubt harbored a huge grudge on you for doing so, to join your merry little band of girl scouts?"

"It's an elite fighting unit, Victoria."

"Those two that you've handpicked are small fry compared to me and you know it," Victoria said, coming closer to the door.

"Don't knock them like that; they have their own useful skills."

"Believe whatever you want," Victoria shrugged carelessly. "But answer me this one little thing, Stevie. Why me? You know I hate you, and you aren't exactly fond of me either. Fear and loathing can't be your ideal working environment."

"Because there is nobody else," Steven conceded. "Don't get me wrong, Victoria, if there was anybody else even vaguely capable to carry out these duties I would bypass you for that person in a heartbeat. Plus I'm forced to admit that your knowledge of weapons and explosives, while disturbing, will come in handy."

Victoria gave him a calculating look. This man was much too trusting, that was his problem. It was also why it took him two whole years to catch up to her. "Are you absolutely certain that you want to take this risk by putting me in?"

"Yes," Steven answered. "Besides, if I know you you're bored out of your mind here. That's probably the main reason why you keep 'acting up'."

Well the guy was hardly an idiot. Victoria thought about it. "Will I get my own room?"

"Yes."

"Decent pay? Health and Dental care?"

"Yes, yes, and yes."

"Gym privileges?"

"The house where you'll be shaking up will have a fully equipped exercise room in the very least. And before you ask, yes, there will be no shortage of bad guys to beat up." Steven looked evenly at her. "So do we have a deal?"

Victoria smiled cunningly at him. "Absolutely. Now get me the fuck out of this cell."

**>>>**

Two days later found Lita and Molly waiting in one of Black Hills' 'recreation' rooms. Before they could actually move out of their less than stellar lodgings and stick it in the face of the poor suckers left behind, they had to undergo a significant amount of training in the correctional facility itself. And so here was the first day.

Molly actually held in her hands the incredibly thick sheaf of papers that Steven had said was the project proposal. Combating the utter dullness of the document, Molly had been determined to learn as much as she could about the program, so as not to get suckered into doing something she didn't want to do. Now she looked up. "Hey, you know what the name of this program is actually called?"

Lita paused from stretching for the moment. "No, what?"

"codename d.i.v.a.s., all lowercase."

"How cheesy," Lita sighed.

"That's not the worst part," Molly said. "The d.i.v.a.s. is actually an acronym for-"

She was cut off when the door was opened. The two of them looked up to see the third and final person of their unit making her first appearance. Victoria smiled as benignly as she could while the guard who had escorted her unclipped the handcuffs from her wrists. "Now you have to promise me that you'll be on your best behavior, Victoria."

"Of course. When have I been anything but?" Victoria said pleasantly, still smiling.

The guard shook her head in exasperation but took the handcuffs and left the room with a final warning glare.

Victoria turned to Lita and Molly. "Well, I suppose you two make up the rest of the team. Have you resigned yourself to working as flunkies yet?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Lita said, shrugging. "Anything to get away from this place and the noxious smell my cellmate seems to be giving off. You?"

"Eh, I've had my own share of degradation, this shouldn't be much different," Victoria said.

"Well here's another little detail to make it all the more intolerable," Molly said, motioning them over.

Lita and Victoria went to huddle over and see what she was pointing at on the document. It was at this moment that the door opened again and Steven Richards strolled in as casually as he could. Considering this was the launching proper of his program and he was going to be in a room along with his arch-nemesis and two other dangerous women, all of whom may not get along quite so well initially, he was nervous. He was pleasantly surprised to find them clustered together in one corner, talking about something.

"Well good morning, ladies. Nice to see that the three of you seem to be getting along well," he greeted.

All three of them turned to him and he froze, eyeing the sharp glares they were giving him. "Uh, is something wrong?"

"Steven," Molly said, dropping her usual formal tone of 'Mr. Richards', "would you mind telling us why in the hell the codename of this project actually comes down to an abbreviation of 'detectives in very atomic suits'?"

Now Steven was wishing he hadn't given those papers to Molly. "Now girls, let's not get carried away… that's not the actual term, I'm sure that the real title is somewhere on page 107…"

"Let's kill him," Lita declared.

"Hang on, you do realize that I'm now your supervisor and-" Steven cut himself off and gave a shriek that was heard throughout the entire penitentiary.

When the guards came to rescue him they found the FBI agent tied down to a chair and dressed in bits and pieces of skimpy women's clothing that the girls had found in the lockers in the room. All three of them spent the night in separate metal holding cells. All of them were fairly confident that they had fixed the problem of having to wear revealing outfits now, even if they were stuck with the godawful name.

**>cont'd**

This is just the start; I'm hoping that it gets better as the story moves along. I welcome comments, critiques, flames and suggestions. Cookies to those who can give it all in one review. Until the next chapter!


	2. divas in Training

**codename d.i.v.a.s.**

I realize the first chapter was a little lackluster. Unfortunately this one doesn't make up for it. It still involves a lot of sitting down and talking. The action will most probably surface in the next few chapters or so.

Oh, and I'm not exactly sure why I chose who I chose to star in this fic. I think I just skimmed the 'Underrated but Part of My Favorites' list. I'll be poking around my other lists too later on, including the 'Overrated but Still Shamefully Loved', and the 'I Could Care Less if They Ate Shit and Died' one.

And I promised cookies... tosses Oreo packs to bojacky. Hehehe...

Date uploaded: 08 March 2005

**Chapter 01: d.i.v.a.s. in Training**

Seven weeks of hell.

Who knew a 'get out of jail free' card was this difficult to procure? Molly wearily ticked off another day on the calendar she kept beside her bed. It had been seven weeks to the day since they had had their first not quite training session. The others that followed weren't half as much fun, or as easy.

The girls' schedules were torturous - eight hours a day everyday of the week. Oh, except Sundays; then they had nine. "It's one of my free days, I can spend all of it with you three," Steven had explained one time, munching heartily on a roast beef sandwich as Molly, Lita and Victoria struggled through their three hundred sit-ups.

"Well what about our free days, Steven?" Lita pointed out, almost gasping for breath.

"Look around, ladies," Steven said, gesturing to the gray walls. "You're not free yet. Now have a little patience; I have a bonus Gummi Worms pack to the person who finishes her sit-ups first. How's that for incentive?"

Victoria's sullen response was to 'accidentally' lose her balance and kick a shoe into his eye. She had retreated into her holding cell gladly.

It wasn't just the physical challenges. Steven also had them analyzing maps, studying computer mainframes, mixing noxious chemicals, assembling and disassembling weapons (not that they would actually be carrying any, much to Victoria's disappointment) and learning how to disarm explosives. It left the girls mentally exhausted as well.

Lita's response was to constantly bitch and complain, which seemed to have no effect on their supervisor. Victoria usually stayed quiet, but if something particularly displeased her she would toss out threats here and there, and that pretty much would have more effect on Steven ("All right then, half an hour break, ladies!"). Molly had stuck it all out. It's not that she enjoyed it; Lita whined enough for three people.

Now Molly rolled sorely onto her bed. They had had two hours worth of judo training, an hour in a lab pouring disgusting smelling blue stuff into what looked like violet goo, an hour running laps, two more hours listening to why they should cut the red wire instead of the blue wire, and then another two hours aikido that had nearly turned to bitch-slapping when Victoria accidentally (for real this time) had her hair pulled by Lita. Molly groaned and snuggled under her covers.

Tomorrow Steven had promised they would do their first drill, patterned after a proper mission. Great. Fine. Whatever. Hopefully she could get some sleep before it, first.

**>>>**

"Good morning, ladies. Ready for the practice mission?" Steven Richards greeted heartily.

Lita, Molly and Victoria, all looking bleary-eyed and spent, scowled darkly at him. It was six-thirty that early morning, and, even with the prospect of stepping outside Black Hills for the first time in months, it was hard to look anything but surly. Sure, it would be a tiny taste of freedom, but with the alarming amount of security that seemed to have accompanied Steven that day, they weren't feeling it. Outside the massive gates they could spot at least five other black vans that seemed to hold seven officers each in the very least.

"Steven, what is this? A drill or military tactics?" Lita said dryly, observing the rifle one of the guards held.

"What? Oh them?" Steven gave a nonchalant shrug that convinced no one. "The Bureau just thought that it would be a good idea to have a little police escort, that's all."

"A little?" Victoria echoed dryly. "I doubt even Charles Manson had this much guard when he was transported to jail."

"Just admit it, Steven. You don't trust us not to escape," Molly said, narrowing her eyes. "You think that we'll bail on you the moment we get a clear shot out there."

"And can you honestly tell me that no one among the three of you has that idea?" Steven shot back.

"Not currently!" Lita defended.

"If you have any plan on this d.i.v.a.s. program going as smoothly as you want it, you have to put it as much as we are," Molly said. "Show us a little trust. Have a little faith in us. It can't all be just a one-way thing."

"I wouldn't mind watching him do a hundred sit-ups himself, though," Lita muttered.

"So call off all but one van. I'm talking all gone, no backup, no trailing," Victoria said to Steven. "Or we don't come along, and you'll be left to think up some lame excuse to give to YOUR supervisor as regards to why your plan backfired."

Steven looked pained. "One van? Can't we compromise on two?"

The three women crossed their arms over their chests and glared at him.

"Oh all right, all right!" he said, giving in. He went over to talk to one of the men standing to the side. After some initial arguing, four of the vans reluctantly packed up and went on their way. By this time it was seven in the morning and a few early risers at Black Hills were looking out curiously.

"There, they're gone, but not without demanding that they still get paid for all this shit. Now can you three just get in the vehicle?" Steven said urgently, slipping a pair of sunglasses on and pointing them in the direction of the remaining van.

"Well since you asked so nicely," Victoria drawled, moving over to where the gates had started to roll open. She turned and blew a cheeky kiss to where Sable was standing and looking out of her office window. "Sucker," she said vaguely under her breath, walking out.

Lita followed, stretching as she stepped out, and a smile actually lighting up her face. Molly stopped first and looked at Steven. "Remember, as long as you keep holding up your part of the bargain, we'll hold up our end," then she turned and moved to the van as well. "At least two of us, I'm certain," she mumbled to herself.

Steven sighed a little dejectedly, then composed himself and walked out of Black Hills, the gates rolling shut behind him. Let the drill begin.

**>>>**

It was five minutes into the ride that Steven dropped the bombshell.

"Repeat that for me one more time," Lita said, as Molly looked on, dumbstruck.

"Scrap the practice mission," Steven obligingly repeated as they jostled around in the back area of the van. "You guys are going in for real." He reached over and tapped something into the computer. A picture of a grinning man with bushy hair and a few missing teeth came up. "Funny you should mention my supervisor earlier, Victoria. This is my boss, Agent Michael Foley. Don't let the Pooh shirt throw you off; he's one of the most important men in our department. Anyway, six hours ago we received word that he had been abducted by a fledging terrorist who goes by the codename 'Fingerling'."

"Jesus, are stupid codenames a staple in this business?" Victoria muttered.

"Forget that, you're throwing us headlong into a mission? Right off the bat?" Lita cried, in near hysterics. "No warning? No inkling? With only seven weeks of practically textbook learning to help us?"

"Lita, calm down," Steven said patiently.

"No I will NOT calm down!" Lita shrieked.

Victoria grabbed her by the shoulder and shook her. "Get a grip!" she commanded.

Meanwhile Molly turned to Steven. "Please tell us you're joking," she said. "As out of control as Lita seems right now, she does have a point. We still lack the experience for this type of mission. It would be suicide for both your boss and us! Besides, if this Foley guy is really influential, why is the department sending three ex-cons turned spies who are still considerably green around the edges in to save him?"

"Because our other field agents are either out or on vacation," was Steven's answer. "Look, will you quit worrying? One of the other reasons why I had brought along so much security in the first place was for damage control, in case the mission got out of hand."

"Oh now you tell us," Victoria groaned. "Couldn't you have said something in the first place?"

"And have somebody overhear that an agent's gone and got himself kidnapped?" Steven snapped. "That's the equivalent of shooting ourselves in the foot."

"Oh so it's okay for the Feds to act like idiots, so as long no one finds out?" Lita said bitingly.

"Can we please get back to the briefing?" Steven finally yelled out impatiently, causing the driver, who had been introduced to them as Josh Matthews, to look back curiously. "Hear me out before you guys jump the gun."

"Fine," Molly said, sitting back and crossing her arms sullenly.

"All right," Steven said, satisfied. "Fingerling is currently nothing but a shadow to the department; nobody's ever seen his face or even knows his real name for that matter. He's had it in for Agent Foley for a while now, after Mick foiled his little plan to leak a biochemical in the airshafts during a UN meeting. Anyway, we think he's about to strike again at a comic book convention tomorrow and he's taken Mick as leverage."

"Wait, why a comic book convention?" Lita asked.

"Because the greatest minds happen to be geeks too. A bunch of heavyweights in the technology area, not to mention the mayor and a congressman will be in attendance, and considering it's going to be packed, it's a prime target."

"Okay, so what exactly do you want us to do?" Molly asked.

"We've already sent operatives to cover the convention. Your primary objective is to recover Agent Foley. We've found out that Fingerling is keeping him in a nearby inn under the watch of one of his accomplices," Steven explained. "The thing is, we've narrowed the list of this possible partner-in-crime to these three people," he motioned to the screen.

Three pictures came up, replacing Mick's grinning photo. The first was of a young black man wearing a ridiculous olive green fedora and large, orange sunglasses. "This is Keshawn O'Brien. His claims to notoriety are his declarations of being a pimp, but all we've seen so far are a lot of pissed-off women who wouldn't dream of having him as a customer, let alone a boss."

Victoria cracked her knuckles. "I'd deck him even if he weren't connected to Finger-fug."

"Fingerling," Steven corrected.

"Whatever."

"Anyway, next up is Ai Hitachi," Steven continued, focusing on the second picture, which was of a pretty Asian woman who was dressed in clothing Sable would have approved off and was giving a flirtatious smile. "She's a former stripper who married a very loaded but quite decrepit tycoon. A month after tying the knot the old man passed away. She kept his entire estate."

"You expect she did him in?" Lita asked.

"We could never be certain. Claimed he kicked the bucket while in bed with her."

Lita snickered, but then straightened her face when Steven and Molly glared at her.

"Last is Joey Gonzalez," Steven went on, pointing to the last picture showing a Latino who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, proudly standing beside a monster of a truck that dwarfed him. "He's a daredevil who drives one of those monster truck things at rallies. Bit of an adrenaline junkie and can never sit still; thirty-six crashes and yet to have any sort of life-threatening injury. The cleanest among the three, as far as I can garner."

"So we have a wannabe pimp, a former stripper and a monster truck driver?" Molly said skeptically. "Quite a colorful crowd."

"Tell me about it," Steven said. "All right, here, I've planned your covers for you," he said, handing them folders.

Victoria looked at hers. "Receptionist?" she said in a humorless voice. "You expect me to be a cheery, bright, welcoming receptionist named Jolene Mann?" her eyes narrowed. "Is there some hidden dig in here that you don't want to be paying for later, Steven?"

"Uh…" Steven muttered, once again tongue-crossed.

"Heck, I'd trade you!" Lita said, gaping at her profile in horror. "I'm supposed to be a guest; easy-going party girl Christy Gibson, taking a rest at a respectable inn after a wild weekend. Only you seem to have crossed out the word 'going' after 'easy', Steven," there was a definite edge to her voice there.

"Um…" Steven stuttered out intelligently.

"I trump you both," Molly suddenly spoke up, looking mutinous. "I'm taking on the role of Tina Jiffy, the ever efficient 'chambermaid' who will apparently be at the beck and call of these three possible terrorist accessories."

"Now that's not entirely true; only one of them would actually be the accomplice," Steven managed to say in his feeble defense.

All three of them glared at him.

Steven was quiet for a moment then nervously cleared his throat. "I don't suppose you would want to see your uniforms then, Molly, Victoria?"

As the van tottered dangerously and the three of them closed in on him, Steven couldn't help but wonder that this briefing had gone very much like the one he gave merely two days ago…

**>>>**

"Let me get this straight, I'm a STRIPPER?"

The last word was said in a practically ear-splitting crescendo, making Steven wince and hope that nobody had heard that outside the small meeting room. Across from him on the table stood the figure of Gail Kim, palms on the surface, feet planted apart, eyes blazing on him.

He tried to shrug as nonchalantly as he could. "Best possible cover I could come up with for you in such short notice."

Gail glanced at the name on her folder. "And 'Ai Hitachi'? That sounds like the perverted love child of two giant Japanese motor brands. Besides, I happen to be Korean."

"So she's a stripper, and I'm a pimp?" Shelton Benjamin said from one end, flipping incredulously through his file. "My grandmother would spear me with her cane if she saw me doing this."

"A wannabe pimp, not an actual one," Steven corrected.

"It's still fucked-up, Steven," Shelton said pointedly.

"Why are you both complaining anyway?" Steven suddenly asked irritably. "You don't see Rey pissing and moaning about his given cover," he motioned to the last agent seated at the end of the table, sipping his coffee in a relaxed manner.

"That's because he gets to drive a fucking monster truck," Shelton said, his two expletives within a minute signifying that he was quite pissed-off. "Why couldn't I have been given that cover?"

"Better yet, why couldn't I have driven the fucking monster truck?" Gail demanded, still seething. "Give Rey the stripper cover!"

At that Rey blanched, but Steven answered Gail smoothly, "No, because frankly I find you parading around in lingerie less disturbing."

That was the last straw for Gail, as she at once clambered over the table and closed her hands tightly around Steven's throat, trying to cut off his windpipe. Shelton immediately went to stop her, although his prodding was half-hearted.

Still drinking his coffee, Rey shook his head. To be quite honest, the only reason he agreed to this whole charade for Steven's program was because he owed the latter a favor, and dragged his two partners into it (he was the senior agent and thus had considerable leverage over both Gail and Shelton). He had a feeling the whole thing would be a disaster, but anything to get Steven from hanging that favor over his head like a guillotine blade.

And besides, he actually really did like the thought of driving a monster truck.

That didn't stop him from sitting back and doing nothing as Gail tried to murder a fellow agent in front of him, though.

>>> … which brought them back to this moment. Steven was indeed getting the strong feeling of deja vu as Victoria continued to strangle the life out of him.

Fortunately the vehicle came to an abrupt stop and toppled the homicidal, black-haired woman off of him. Lita and Molly followed, so all three of them ended jup sprawled around the back of the van.

Josh Matthews' head ducked into view. "We're here," he said, and then eyed them. "Uh, are you guys all right?"

"Great, just great," Molly grumbled as Victoria pushed Lita off of her.

Steven gave a croak, tested his throat by clearing it and then stood up, adjusting his tie. "Well then, let Mission: Retrieve Agent Foley begin."

**>cont'd**

Like I said, too much talking. More action next time, I promise. Any suggestions at all? Twsited baddies to fight in the future? Messed-up missions the girls find themselves in? I'm all ears! And here's hoping I can churn out the next chapter in a week or so!


	3. The Undercover Practice Drill Part 1

codename d.i.v.a.s. - Chapter 03: The Undercover Practice Drill (Part 1)

**codename d.i.v.a.s.**

Update! Update! Update! Sorry, I don't know what's got into me. Anyway, I've finally sat my ass down and pulled this third chapter through. It's still a little slow; you'll have to forgive me, action is virtually untested ground for me. Next chapter, I promise. Actually, it should be this one, but it was so long I had to break it into two parts. Oh, and hope the undercover names don't confuse anyone; it nearly confused me, to be honest. Well here's a refresher: Victoria - Jolene Mann. Lita - Christy Gibson. Molly - Tina Jiffy. Gail Kim - Ai Hitachi. Shelton Benjamin - Keshawn O'Brien. Rey Mysterio - Joey Gonzalez. Good? Let's get to it, then.

Date Uploaded: 14 May 2005

**Chapter 03: The Undercover Practice Drill (Part 1)**

It was all Victoria could do to keep from drilling the pen in her hand right into the guests who checked into the Rustic Seaside Inn (which pretty much was that, but you could tell the owner didn't have much imagination in the way of names). It was only eleven in the morning and yet she had rented out fourteen rooms and now she felt her smile was practically cemented in place.

She had seen all types of visitors check in. There were the big, bustling families with screaming, whiny kids, harassed-looking mothers and indifferent fathers with potbellies. A bunch of university students on spring break had taken a few rooms as well, all rowdy, most yelling war cries and profane greetings at each other. There was a honeymooning couple who had insisted on smooching while checking in, making Victoria want to retch. Lita had checked in as her undercover persona Christy Gibson, adopting her best vapid, Paris Hilton-attitude that actually made Victoria snicker. But yet still no sign of the three suspects.

Now, absently massaging her throbbing cheekbones with one hand, Victoria sucked it in and faced the next person with a smile that she hoped was cheerful instead of murderous. "Welcome to the Rustic Seaside Inn! How may I help you?"

Pay dirt. The slick grin of Keshawn O'Brien greeted her from underneath an oversized beret of orange. "Hey gorgeous, I'm here for a room."

Victoria quickly sized him up. A pretty built guy, probably somewhere on the 230-lbs. mark. If need be she could probably take him down alone, assuming she had the first strike. "Certainly, sir. Name?"

"Keshawn. Keshawn O'Brien."

"All right. For one?"

"Yep, a single, unless of course you want to change that," he said, leaning over the counter and leering at her.

Victoria was only a fraction of a second away from plunging her pen into his eye when someone blessedly cut in. "Hello? If you two are through playing coy, I'd like a room! I've been traveling for six hours in a stuffy limo and I need a dip in a Jacuzzi to relax me!"

Victoria and Keshawn both turned to see Ai Hitachi standing there, both hands pompously placed on her hips while a suffering aide precariously balanced large parcels and suitcases in her grip. The Asian widow shoved Keshawn aside, nearly stuffing one end of her feather boa in his mouth. "Move it. Listen, my name is Ai Hitachi, I want the best suite this little spit from the sea has to offer."

Well, here was suspect number two. Victoria would have loved nothing better than to knock both their heads together. As Keshawn ogled Ai's ass, Victoria checked her log. "I'm sorry," she said, obviously not meaning it, "but our super-duper deluxe suite was taken earlier by a woman who wanted her poodle to have 'adequate leg room'." It was true, although with the size of the pooch a Chinese takeout carton would have sufficed.

Ai grew red in the face with rage, but finally said, "Fine then. The second best."

"A pair of honeymooners took it."

"Third?"

"I believe a frat boy and seven or so of his colleagues are busy thrashing it right now."

"Hey, if the place is out of rooms, you can always bunk with me," Keshawn suddenly said, flashing Ai a suggestive wink.

Ai wrinkled her nose at him in disgust. Now that she obviously had money she could afford some sort of dignity. She turned back to Victoria. "Just give me any blasted room so that I can get out of this lobby and away from HIM!"

"Room 311 is a double, overlooking the seashore, and is free," Victoria said, trying once again to look pleasant as she penciled Ai and her near-faint aide in. She handed over the keys. "Enjoy your stay."

With an indignant sniff Ai grabbed them, motioned impatiently for her aide to follow her up to the elevators, and then stomped majestically away. Keshawn catcalled after her, making her stiffen her stride but she never looked back.

Still grinning perversely, Keshawn turned and found another set of keys being dangled in his face. "Room 312, single, right across of You-Know-Who," Victoria said. "Enjoy your stay," she repeated.

"Oh I will," Keshawn said, making a small kissing motion and taking the keys. He jogged off up the stairs, no doubt wanting to see if he could catch up to the bellyaching, ludicrously dressed woman before she got off the elevator.

Victoria pretended to be fiddling with her earring and spoke into a small mouthpiece attached to one of her molars. "Bastard Player and Gold Digging Stripper have arrived."

"So I heard," Steven's voice came into her ear. "Hey, the camera's slightly askew."

Victoria straightened her nameplate, where a tiny camera had been planted to give Steven visible access. "I'm packing them all on the third floor in the east wing of the inn. Lita's room is there too; let's hope she's around and isn't mucking about with some of the college guys."

"Well from her camera angle I can see she's talking to them," Steven said. "The ones who aren't wasted yet seem to be talking to her breasts, though. Molly's changed nineteen sheets and had to be called out once to wipe vomit from the hallways already. She's threatened to let me die a slow and painful death about seven times already."

"You expect me to be sympathetic?"

"Yeah, I didn't think so either. Well, better get back to work before people wonder why in the hell Receptionist Mann seems to be talking to herself."

The counter bell trilled to her left and Victoria turned to see their final guy had arrived. Joey Gonzalez looked even more amiable then his picture as he smiled up at her. Yep, up. Victoria found herself a couple of inches taller than the adrenaline junkie.

"Hola," he greeted. "I called a few days earlier and made a booking under Joey Gonzalez. I know I said I'd be in at ten, but I had a little problem maneuvering my vehicle through these narrow streets."

"Narrow?" Victoria asked quizzically. She looked to where Joey was jerking his thumb to one of the front bay windows. Outside was a huge truck, fortunately not one of those he drove in shows but still impressive in its own right. It had been parked over two spaces. "I see… Well, I would suggest that it be moved to the back parking, where it's roomier. Would you like to give the keys to one of our valets?"

"Nah, no one touches that baby but me," Joey said, still all smiles. "Just let me sign in for my room and I'll move it myself."

"All right," Victoria said, plucking up the last of the reserve keys. "You'll have room 314, third floor, left from the elevators. Enjoy your stay," she never wanted to utter that three-word sentence ever again.

"Thanks, chica," he said, giving her a final grin and then whistling as he headed back out momentarily to move his monster of a vehicle. Victoria watched him go. She felt nothing but nice-guy waves radiating from him, but she wasn't the type to fall for that easily. Keshawn and Ai may be two blithering idiots but she had the feeling Joey was the one they had to watch out for.

"I'm taking my break," she said indifferently to one of the hotel staff also behind the counter. A forty-eight hour break, if possible. The mission was on.

**>>>**

Two floors up, Molly was muttering furious curses into a load of laundry. She had just collected it from a roomful of college guys who probably didn't know how to operate a washing machine if their life depended on it. Judging from the smell, it must have been some time since they had brought the particular articles of clothing home to be cleaned by their mothers. Ee-yuck.

So far the highlight of the day had been watching one of those infuriating children always running around smack right into a cleaning trolley. The little bastard had bounced onto his butt, stunned for a split-second, before letting out a hideous wail. Molly had taken some sort of satisfaction in seeing the brat's parents turn into flustered heaps of parental insecurity. Then she had to turn back to cleaning toilets again, something she didn't enjoy back in prison and definitely didn't enjoy now.

She had just been about to take a short break when something caught her eye and she ducked behind a post.

Keshawn actually did catch up with Ai and her aide. Molly listened as closely as she could.

"… Jump into a hot tub for two and get to know each other better, what do you say, Lucy Liu?" the voice that was unmistakably Keshawn said cheekily.

"I would rather have leeches drain the fluids from my eyeballs," Ai responded bitingly. "Now would you mind getting out of the way? I'd threaten to claw your eyes out but I just had my nails done."

Not being able to resist taking a peek, Molly leaned over slightly and looked around the column. She was in time to see Ai jabbing a finger in Keshawn's chest and continuing with, "And if you keep on bothering me I'll have you thrown out."

"Hey, no need to get rough, not yet at least," Keshawn replied, taking her same hand and caressing it.

Ai snatched it back almost immediately. "Let's go," she said sharply to her poor, nameless aide, tossing her hair back and leaving Keshawn to once again eyeball her backside.

That scene, while slightly interesting, wasn't what had Molly's complete attention. What she did catch, even if it did happen ever so quickly, was the note exchange. That's right, when Keshawn had touched Ai's hand he had passed along a slip of paper, which Ai had then discreetly dropped in her purse as she yanked her arm back. Considering Steven had their area wired for any phone or electronic message signals, they must have felt this low-tech way was the only safe means to communicate.

Molly narrowed her eyes as Keshawn waited for Ai to slip inside her room before going into his. Something more was up here, she just knew it. She had to find a way to get that note.

"Hey, yo, Mizz Jiffy?" a drawling male voice called. Molly froze and slowly turned around.

One of the longhaired, surfer college guys was peeking out of his room, the same one she had been called in and out of the whole morning. It was a wonder they weren't on first name basis yet. "One of my pals kinda clogged up the toilet with this monster enchilada, right? Now it's totally overflowing and flooding up the place. Could ya maybe check it out?"

For a brief moment Molly entertained the idea of holding his head into the bowl. And then she gave a resigned sigh and stomped back into the room.

**>>>**

Lita grinned as she spotted her target. Actually, it wasn't all that hard to pick him out, that massive truck that looked like it could swallow pedestrians whole made him stand out. She sauntered over to where Joey was locking up his prized vehicle.

She was glad to be out of the inn for a minute. Considering it was spring break there were large bunches of college kids running around and, although she couldn't be mistaken for one, her bubbly cover was an immediate attraction for the young men. That, and the fact that Steven had packed some of the most ludicrous skimpy outfits she had ever seen. While not fond of walking around in just barely enough material to cover a hand towel, she found the increasing number of stares even more uncomfortable. Wasn't this supposed to be UNDERCOVER? She merely kept consoling herself with the thought that all three d.i.v.a.s. would make Steven pay dearly after this.

Joey wasn't bad to look at either. Broad shoulders, muscular back, cute smile; if not for the unfortunate fact that he only came up to her temples he would have been perfect.

He had parked by her own car (a nice one that she wouldn't have minded keeping, although of course it was only on loan for this mission and would probably never see her driving it out of the parking lot) and so that would make things easier. Lita reached her vehicle and made sure he noticed her giving him coy looks. From there she went on to pop open the trunk. Inside was the suitcase she had 'forgotten' to let the bellboys bring up. Grasping the handles she heaved and then let out a squeak, indicating that it was too heavy for her. Putting on a show of grunting and exerting to lift the damned thing, Lita was rewarded when somebody cleared his throat behind her.

"Need some help?"

She turned her best, slightly ditzy smile on him. "Would you? I've got all seven of my shoes in here, plus more of my wardrobe! I can't spend the weekend without them."

"Right, I see," Joey said, giving a tolerant smile. He dropped his own sensible-sized travel bags to the pavement and went to go heave her suitcase out, motioning for one the waiting bellboys to bring a trolley around as well.

"Thanks so much," Lita gushed as he put the piece of luggage down and closed the trunk. "This is one of the first times I've traveled alone so I'm a bit helpless," she gave a titter. "I'm Christy, by the way."

"Joey," he replied, shaking her hand. "I'm here for the weekend too. Say, I heard there's going to be a luau or something by the beach tonight. Want to check it out with me?"

Lita blinked. That was fast; she had meant to bring that up herself after a while. It must be her dress, or lack of it, that helped the conversation along. She smiled widely and linked her arm in his. "I think that's a great idea," she'd keep this one busy tonight while Victoria somehow made sure Ai and Keshawn were out and about, enough time for Molly to snoop through the rooms. "It's a date."

**>>>**

Meanwhile Steven had holed up in room 213, right below Lita's. From there he had visual access to rooms 311, 312, 313 (much to Lita's displeasure) and 314, as well as any place the girls happened be right then, assuming they wore the microscopic cameras he had given them.

Now he closed his eyes and stretched out comfortably in his easy chair as Josh monitored the screens. It was time to sit back and wait for the fun to begin. He only hoped that the divas would fair considerably well in this drill, enough to keep the project rolling along. "So what's going on now?" he asked Josh.

"Not much, sir," Josh answered. "Victoria's back from her fifty-two minute 'break', one I don't think the hotel manager was too keen about. She's now dealing with a bunch of Japanese tourists who can't seem to speak a lick of English."

"Keep an eye on that situation; it could get ugly. And the others?"

"Gail as Ai has currently thrown all caution to the wind, found our camera and is giving us the finger right now."

Steven lazily opened one eye and caught Gail's ferocious glare; she was standing on the loveseat in her hotel room, giving them the universal 'fuck you' sign with utmost conviction. If one of the girls walked in here right now and saw that it would mean a hell of a lot of explaining. Fortunately, seeming satisfied that the guys had gotten her message, she stopped and returned back to her role. Oh well, as long as she didn't get too careless.

"Shelton as Keshawn seems to be getting into his part; he's by the pool and is surrounded by a bunch of girls. I thought he was supposed to be repulsive, not charming."

"I guess some girls like that. Let's hope he checks that they're not underage first," Steven said.

Josh continued. "Lita and Rey as Joey have gone for drinks at the bar. So far he's the only one of the guys she's talked to here who hasn't taken even a discreet peak at her breasts. Oh, whoops, there he goes, I spoke too soon."

"Rey's jumping at this mission all too quickly. And to think I had him pegged as the only one who I wouldn't have a problem with," Steven sighed. "What about little Molly?"

"She's just washed up from cleaning out the muck in the frat boys' room," Josh said, sounding a bit sick himself. "Oh, wait, she's let herself into Shel—I mean, Keshawn's room."

At that Steven sat up and focused on the screen showing Molly (from her point of view, of course) enter the room and lock the door behind her. "Steven? Can you hear me?" she asked in a low voice. "I'm inside. Give me a heads up if there's anybody out in the hall, would you?"

"Gotcha, Molly," Steven answered with a grin as on screen (from two angles now, her point of view and the camera in Shelton's room) Molly began to snoop.

**>cont'd**

So the mission (albeit fake, but the girls don't know that) is on. Will Victoria commit homicide on any of the hotel pests before the day is out? Will any of the guys Lita talks to see past the skimpy clothing (not that they can't see well through it al ready...)? Will Molly ever stop having to clean the toilets? Did any of those questions have any bearing whatsoever? Oh wait, here's one; what was in the note that Keshawn passed to Ai? All this and cynical hijinks more in the next chapter!


End file.
